


Reunion

by Emma



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:57:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma/pseuds/Emma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After seven years, Jack and Ianto meet again. This is a stand-alone, not part of my other Universes. And as usual with me, assume major AU-ness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**GWEN**

Detective Inspector Gwen Cooper of the Cardiff Major Crimes Unit stared at the lights of the spaceport that crouched like a poisonous spider at the edge of the bay. Even the Christmas lights festooning the buildings couldn't relieve its menacing air. _Maybe the earthfirsters are right and we should stay home and mind our own business._

She realized she had spoken out loud when she heard her partner snort.

“We're not the stay at home types, Gwen,” Andy handed her a steaming cup. “Humans always want to see what's on the other side of the mountain. Or the galaxy.”

“I suppose so.” She sipped the tea, strong and sweet, the perfect cure for the megrims she seemed to be incubating. “Andy, what'll happen if we can't find who killed that... unprintable illegitimate of an ambassador?”

He shrugged. “We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. They've given us a week. After that...”

He shrugged again. Gwen knew exactly how he felt. She wasn't going down into slavery without putting up one hell of a fight. Rhys had spent most of his growing years in the Beacons; there were plenty of hiding places up there for a guerrilla band.

She remembered how excited everyone had been when it was announced that the Inabraxan Alliance's Quinquennial Assembly would be held in Cardiff. Humanity was the Alliance's youngest partner, and in the general run of things they wouldn't have hosted an Assembly for centuries; the Inabraxan were nothing if not conservative in their choices. But there seemed to have been other considerations, and the Council had deadlocked until the Onemi councillor had suggested Earth as a compromise, and the city of Cardiff in particular. The announcement had sent the whole planet into a frenzy of preparations, culminating in an Eisteddfod concert in the five-hundred-year old Millennium Centre.

And it had ended in murder and the possible loss of the planet to aliens.

The dull slap of trainers on the metal floor made them turn. Suzie Costello, the head tech of the Crime Scene Reconstruction Lab, was running towards them, a panicked expression on her face.

“They're here!”

“Slow down, Suzie,” Andy took hold of the woman's hand, pulling her to an abrupt stop. “Who's here?”

“Torchwood!”

The cup slipped from Gwen's suddenly nerveless fingers and crashed to the floor. The Inabraxan Alliance's Office of Intercultural Affairs was, as far as she could figure out, a cross between a police force and a university. They held jurisdiction over any situation that impacted two or more of the Alliance's member Cultures, and that jurisdiction was both wide and deep. The Torchwood team were the Human Cultures specialists. The team had been named after the estate in the Scottish Highlands were the first Human-Inabraxan contract had been signed. It was rumoured that the team leader was actually human, but since the OIA field operatives list was considered one of the Alliance's greatest trade secrets, even the most tenacious webnews hound had nothing but gossip and legend to report. Torchwood was supposedly both highly successful and completely ruthless.

“Duw!” Andy chuckled. “Top brass will be unhappy today.”

Gwen picked up her cup and threw it into the closest trash container. Andy was right; the Chief Constable wasn't going to be happy about having strangers take over the investigation. Worse, as far as Gwen was concerned, was that she didn't know Torchwood's brief in the matter. From what she could remember of her Uni history classes, the Alliance hadn't always sided with the underdog.

The front door was pulled wide open and a crowd marched through. Every senior official of the South Wales Constabulary seemed to be pulled along in the wake of a tall, brown-haired man wearing an ankle-sweeping brown leather coat. He was probably the most handsome man Gwen had ever seen, with deep blue eyes that swept over her as he took in everyone and everything in the room and then returned for a more lingering look. Behind him came a woman that looked human and yet alien, with long, elegant arms and legs, dark oriental eyes, and a mane of blue-black hair secured into an elaborate braided hairdo. Next to her danced a t'Li, a Person that to human eyes resembled a praying mantis, with a double set of wings exquisitely shaded in gold, red, and green.

“With all due respect, Chief, we don't need them,” Gwen's boss, the Chief of Major Crimes and a major pain in the arse to his subordinates, pushed his way to the front of the pack. “I've put my best team on it.”

The t'Li made a noise that resembled a glissando played on a badly tuned harp. “You need us.” The voicebox he wore produced the usual bland English accent but it had a faint Cockney overlay. “Unless you have a yen to spend the next five hundred years as a _eeulinaali_ so-called protectorate.”

The chief gave him a look of pure dislike. “If they really wanted to help us, they would have sent experts on the _eeulinaali_.” He managed not to mangle the name, for which Gwen gave devout thanks. “Aren't you supposed to be the experts on Human culture?”

The man in the long coat looked at him over his shoulder. “There are no experts on _eeulinaali_ culture. There are a couple of people, however, who have enough knowledge to give us an edge.” He strode towards Gwen and offered his hand with a flirtatious smile. “I'm Captain Jack Harkness. And you are?”

“Jack!” The tall woman admonished.

“Don't be a spoilsport, Tosh. I was just saying hello!”

“I don't mind,” Gwen told the woman. “I'm Detective Inspector Gwen Cooper.”

“Well, Detective Inspector Gwen Cooper, you are now seconded to Torchwood for the duration.”

“Wait a minute!” The chief shouted. “You can't do that!”

“I suggest you take another look at your copy of the contract.” The lovely voice turned icy. “I can have anything I want, and right now, I want Gwen to do me a favor.” He turned back to Gwen, smile firmly in place. “I need you to go to the University of Cardiff, locate Professor Ianto Jones of the Anthropology department, and bring him here.”

“That won't be necessary.”

A man made his way through the crowd. Gwen couldn't help but gawk just a little. If Captain Harkness was the most handsome man she had ever met, this man was the most beautiful. The elegant jaw line and blue-gray eyes gave him vidstar appeal, enhanced by the old-fashioned suit he wore with elegant ease. But it was the soft smile playing on his lips that made Gwen sigh a little.

"That's an anthropology professor?” Gwen heard Suzie whisper. The two women shared a smirk.

“Ianto!” The woman Captain Harkness had called Tosh launched herself into the newcomer's arms. “So good to see you!”

He wrapped his arms around her and hung on for dear life. “My lovely Toshiko.”

The t'Li whistled and clicked in his own language. Professor Jones took something out of his pocket and, to the astonishment of all except the Torchwood group, answered in the same language. Finally, the t'Li threw out his grasping legs in an oddly human gesture.

“Tea-Boy!”

The professor thumped the exposed thorax. “It's good to see you again, Owen.”

Gwen nearly giggled. It was customary for a t'Li to ask a friend from another Culture to choose a name for the t'Li to use, since it was impossible for most Persons to pronounce a t'Li name. Professor Jones must have been tad bedydd to this particular one. It was obviously a family reunion of sorts.

Something made her look at Captain Harkness and was startled to see a deep sorrow flash across his eyes for a second. Then the armor was back in place and he grinned merrily.

“Ianto! Look good in a suit!”


	2. Chapter 2

**JACK**

The moment he heard Ianto's voice he realized all his blather about time and distance and moving on had been just that. Empty blather. No matter what happened for the rest of his life, Ianto would be the most important person in it, whether he was in the same room or three wormhole jumps away, and Jack foresaw a life filled with sudden jolts of memory and regretful dreams.  
  
The worst thing was knowing Ianto felt the same way. Jack didn't doubt Ianto's love, any more than he doubted his own for Ianto. Love had never been the problem. It was Ianto's need for a family that had crashed their world. Jack knew he wasn't fit to raise children. Not after Gray.  
  
And none of it mattered right now. Jack would be double-damned if he let the _eeulinaali_ take Humanity's home away from them, and that meant Ianto. He plastered a big smile on his face and advanced on his ex-lover, hand extended.  
  
“Ianto! Look good in a suit!”  
  
“Careful, sir. That's harassment.”  
  
They shook hands, smiling ruefully in acknowledgment of everything left unsaid. Jack turned to the local boffins. “Thank you, gentlemen. We'll probably use this building as our base of operations. It's our understanding that you are decommissioning it as a forensics lab, and it's exactly what we need. Inspector Cooper will act as liaison between Torchwood and the local authorities.” He looked over Andy and Suzie. “I believe Inspector Davidson and Ms. Costello will be useful also.” He ignored the assorted splutterings and harrumphings and swept on down the corridor. “Suzie, I can call you Suzie, can't I? Good. I'm Jack. And do you have a holo lab?”  
  
Suzie hurried after him. “We do. Gwen and Andy... uh... inspectors Cooper and Davidson... asked me to program the feed from their casecams into it yesterday, so it's all set up.”  
  
Looking over his shoulder he gave Gwen and Andy a dazzling smile. “Well done, children. Lead on, Suzie.”  
  
They followed her down the corridor to a large cog door. She tapped a sequence on a flat metal plate inset in its center then flattened her palm on it. Jack heard the faint whirr of a chromosomal sequencer. A few seconds later the cog door rolled aside.  
  
“Good security,” Jack said.  
  
“A bit outdated.” Suzie shrugged. “Once they decided to concentrated all the major lab work at Canary Wharf in London, they stopped keeping the regional labs up to date.”  
  
She led them into the hangar-sized space beyond. Floors, walls, and ceiling were lined with black plastiglass and inset with projectors.  
  
“Control room over there,” Suzie pointed. “Do you want me to run the program or would one of your people...”  
  
“No, you go ahead. Gwen, Andy, with me.”  
  
The two cops took up positions behind him.  
  
“You knew who we were before you got here,” Gwen said calmly.  
  
“Information makes all the difference between success and failure in our business. More to the point, I needed to know if you were competent enough for us to trust your observations.”  
  
Andy snorted. “And your conclusions?”  
  
“You're still in the room, aren't you?” The overhead lights flickered and faded away, leaving the room in darkness. “Here we go.”  
  
The Plas came to life around them. It was night, with a full moon high overhead. An excited crowd milled around, kept back from the area nearest the fountain by uniformed constables and what looked like miles of police barriers. Media vans jockeyed for position. Snatches of Christmas music could be heard above the tumult.  
  
“Gwen, tell me what you saw.”  
  
“We got pulled from another case, so by the time we got here the forensic people were half finished.” An image of Gwen ran towards a group gathered around a fabric-covered mound. One of the men turned and waved to her. “Peter Miller. Good man, knows what he knows and what he doesn't know. Not that he was allowed to do much. The body was claimed by the _eeulinaali_ embassy. Cultural taboo.”  
  
The image-Gwen pulled the fabric off the mound. An _eeulinaali_ male sprawled face down, half-in and half-out of the fountain. His crest feathers made a halo in the water. One of his arms was twisted backwards as if he were trying to touch his back.  
  
“Freeze it!” Ianto stepped forward to examine the tableau. “Owen, look at this.”  
  
The t'Li scurried over, wings flickering lightly. They bent over the image-body, clicking and whistling softly. It was a familiar scene to Jack, and one he had never expected to see again. As Owen extended his wings for balance, he heard a small gasp, immediately suppressed, behind him. He grinned slyly. That Gwen Cooper could be a keeper, he thought. Now, for Detective Inspector Davidson.  
  
“Andy, tell me what you saw.”  
  
“While Gwen talked to the forensic types I tried to get eyewitness reports.” The policeman snorted. “No joy there. The Plas was filled with gawkers, all hoping to catch a glimpse of the Assembly delegates. They were keeping warm in the usual fashion. Many were too pissed to see anything and of those who said they had seen something, well, the stories were inventive, to say the least . Nothing played out. The Ambassador's entourage was whisked away, diplomatic immunity, so we're left with a big blank.”  
  
Toshiko returned from making a circuit of the scene. “There are at least three places with direct lines-of-sight to the fountain. A professional assassin would have used them. One single shot and that would have been that.”  
  
Ianto and Owen joined the group. “One blow between the shoulder blades, then a thrust with something very long, very slender, and very sharp. See how he’s reaching backwards? He felt it go in,” the t'Li reported. “But it didn't kill him. It immobilized him. He drowned in the fountain.”  
  
Jack whistled. “Nasty death for an _eeulinaali_ aristocrat.”  
  
“Why?” Andy asked.  
  
“During the _eeulinaali_ Wars of Succession, drowning was used as a means of execution for clan traitors,” Ianto explained. “Whoever did this recreated the execution of a Great One.”  
  
“So it was personal,” Jack said.  
  
“There have been rumours of a war among the Cliffs clans. Ambassador _iilaaila'inali_ was considered to be the most likely heir to the _iil_ clan War Leader. Eliminating the future leader of an enemy clan while getting a new planet for your people would be considered quite a success. Or maybe, just maybe, that's what we're supposed to think.”  
  
“I feel a long lesson in _eeulinaali_ sociopolitics coming on,” the t'Li complained. “And I haven't had decent coffee in ages. Any possibility of a place to sit down and have a cuppa?”  
  
Jack heard another suppressed giggle from the locals. “Suzie?”  
  
The hologram flickered and disappeared. “We have a conference room upstairs,” the technician reappeared, taking off a pair of black gloves lined with circuitry. “But I don't think we have anything but instant coffee and tea.”  
  
Jack turned to Ianto, hands held in front of him as in prayer. “Tell me you can do something for us.”  
  
Ianto rolled his eyes. “Don't I always?”  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**GWEN**

  
“This is real coffee.” Gwen stared at the mug she was holding as if it were filled with live worms. “Real, honest-to-God-from-roasted-beans coffee.”  
  
There were chuckles and snorts around the table, but they were friendly sounds. As one of the relatively few people on Earth with regular experience of off-worldlers, Gwen had learned the difference between friendly amusement and condescension pretty quickly.  
  
“Ianto has contacts among the Anachrons,” Toshiko giggled. “In fact, Ianto has contacts pretty much everywhere.”  
  
Gwen stared openly at the young man sitting across from her. He looked barely old enough to be a graduate assistant, much less a full University professor formerly employed by the Alliance's Office of Intercultural Affairs, and having contacts in multiple planets.  
  
“My father was a member of the First Contact Bureau,” he explained, putting her curiosity out of its misery. “By the time I was eighteen I had lived in half a dozen planets.”  
  
She nodded, trying to wrap her brain around that kind of life. After a few moments, she gave up. “You lived in the _eeulinaali_ home planet?”  
  
“From the age of six until right before I turned eleven. Went back later on for two more years.”  
  
“So you know a lot about them, right?” Andy asked. “What's with this planet grabbing crap?”  
  
“The _eeulinaali_ evolved in a massively resource-poor environment. Their home planet is mostly desert, with a few oases down in the valleys and nothing but rock and underground lakes in the plateaus. Huge wind patterns circle the planet. It almost never rains and when it does, it's catastrophic. The only truly fertile zone in the whole planet extends less than one hundred miles on either side of the equator. Taking into consideration evolutionary pressures that required speed, strength, and hyperfast reflexes for survival, what kind of culture do you think could develop there?”  
  
“Warrior,” Andy said, then took a gulp of his coffee. “Winner take all.”  
  
Gwen noticed the startled glances Toshiko and Owen gave her partner and snickered softly. Andy's sweet, slightly goofy looks always fooled people.  
  
“It was,” professor Jones confirmed. “But after a couple of millennia of warfare, a less genocidal version emerged. Do any of you know what counting coup is?”  
  
“The winning of prestige through some sort of physical feat, rather than injuring your opponent... most commonly in battle but it also could refer to, say, taking your opponent's property...” Andy seemed to mentally skid to a stop. “So the _eeulinaali_ count coup? And whoever captures the biggest prize gets to... what? Head the government? Control the resources?”  
  
“DI Davidson,” Jack drawled, “you and I will be discussing your future career very soon. Talent like yours can't be wasted chasing common criminals.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Andy said absent-mindedly. “So the _eeulinaali_ are using the murder of the ambassador to claim that Earth as a whole owes them weregild to the tune of five hundred years of slavery? High price for one single individual.”  
  
Ianto shook his head. “Earth wouldn't be paying for a single individual. Ambassador _iilaaila'inali_ 's rank made him one of the most important people in his Culture. The _iil_ are pitching it as an attack upon their clan.”  
  
“Still only an single clan and a single individual,” Andy said. “They've never tried this with an Alliance member before, have they? They usually go after planets away from main trade routes, with societies that I would call medieval. Why us and why now?”  
  
Professor Jones hesitated, looking at Jack, who nodded. Something in the exchange made Gwen wonder about the relationship between the two men. There was something deeply personal about their interactions, as if they could read each other's minds, and yet they seemed to keep a certain distance. She had noticed that Toshiko had subtly directed them around the conference room table so that the professor was seated at Jack's immediate right, and that both men had hesitated briefly before taking their seats. Now everything came together in a flash of intuition. Lovers. Those two had been lovers at one time, and the emotion still clung to them. Former lovers, and still in love.  
  
“That is why your team is so successful,” the t'Li – Owen, she needed to remember his name and avoid giving offense – murmured. “He scents facts and you scent emotions.”  
  
She looked back over her shoulder at him. The huge compound eyes reflected hundreds of copies of her own image back at her. There was intelligence and humor behind the odd insect face. “I've never heard it put that way, but yes. That's how it works.”  
  
“Before Ianto continues,” Jack said, and there was an undertone in his voice that made Gwen give him her undivided attention, “there is something all of you,” he pointed to Gwen, Andy, and Suzie in turn, “have to understand and agree to. One of the most important things we at OIA do is keep secrets. That's why we are trusted by all Cultures. If you reveal anything you hear, the penalty is to have all memories of your previous life removed. No family, no friends, no home planet. Are you still interested?”  
  
Gwen swallowed hard, but nodded. After a moment, Andy and Suzie did the same.  
  
“All right. Ianto, go ahead.”  
  
“The scarcity of resources of the _eeulinaali_ home planet resulted in an evolutionary pattern where reproduction is closely tied to dietary abundance. An _eeulinaa_ 's estrus is triggered by a combination of nutrients that build up over several years of good eating. It lasts only a very short time and each female gives birth to one child. Even one year of scarcity will result in infertile eggs. For centuries, _eeulinaali_ clans raided each other, taking all the food they could carry and destroying the rest. It triggered long, vicious feuds that led to the extermination of many of the lesser clans.” He poured himself more coffee. “That's all by way of making you understand the relevance of the next bit of information. There are persistent rumours that the _iil_ are having reproductive problems. Since children are not seen by outsiders until their naming ceremony, there's no way of verifying them, but...”  
  
Andy straightened slowly, and Gwen, recognizing the expression, braced herself for one of his logical leaps. “You're suggesting that the _iil_ sacrificed their future War Leader in order to get themselves more territory. No. More resources?” He frowned. “But there are more fertile places than Earth, and easier to grab. So it's a special kind of resource they need?”  
  
Ianto raised one eyebrow. “It is universally accepted that the best genetic engineers are Human.”  
  
“Good luck in finding out for sure,” Gwen snarled. “We were not allowed to search the Ambassador's quarters. Diplomatic immunity again. According to the delegation's secretary, we can be assured that the Ambassador's official residence does not contain any clues to his unfortunate demise. He suggested we drag the earthfirsters from their hidey-hole,” she mimicked the elegant drawl of the official, “after all, wouldn't they be the usual suspects?”  
  
“Gwen,” Jack said urgently, “were those his exact words?”  
  
“I tend to remember what condescending pricks say to me, Captain Harkness.”  
  
“Good. Ianto?”  
  
“He was sending us a message, Gwen,” professor Jones explained. “ _eeulinaali_ do not have a concept for official residence. Think of a clan house as a medieval king's castle, both a home and a place of business.” He held up a hand to stop her from saying anything. “The secretary was telling you that the Ambassador had a hiding place somewhere in Cardiff.”

  
“How do you know that?” Andy demanded.  
  
“Because the _eeulinaali_ delegation secretary had every reason to expect that I would be called in to consult. Because it was I who taught him Standard English, including the concept of a hidey-hole.” He smiled at them gently. “And because he wouldn't want to see my home overrun by the _iil_. After all, he's my brother.”  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**IANTO**

It had been so easy to slide back into their usual pattern, so normal to sit at Jack's right hand, make his coffee and finish his sentences. The easy knowledge of what Jack was thinking and the ability to see the weak points and correct them had all come back as if seven years hadn't passed. The t'Li called it twinning, two souls meant to be one reaching for the union they had been denied. Owen swore up and down that he and Jack were two such, and at times it was easy to believe.  
  
He believed he had moved past Jack Harkness. He had the family he had craved, a profession that gave him a great deal of satisfaction, and the respect of his students and colleagues. And yet the moment he set eyes on the damned man he knew nothing, nothing at all, was past.  
  
He sighed. Lisa had always said his biggest talent was for deceiving himself.  
  
“Tad?” Five-year-old Dai stood on tiptoe to look at the lasagna Ianto was assembling. “Is Aunt Rhi coming over?”  
  
“No, Dai. Remember the pictures I showed you last week? Your aunt Tosh and your uncle Owen? They're visiting Cardiff and I've invited them over for dinner.”  
  
Dai's twin sister jumped up and down. “Is Uncle Jack coming too? He's pretty!”  
  
“Anwen!”  
  
Ianto attempt at admonishing his daughter ended up in helpless laughter. Anwen was as outgoing and forthright as her brother was shy and reserved. Light and Shadow, Lisa had called them. Anwen had inherited her mother's artistic eye; of course she would notice Jack.  
  
“Have you two finished your homework?” Two curly-haired heads nodded in unison. “Well, then, you can watch some vids until our friends get here. Dai, it's your turn to choose.” He turned a gimlet eye on his daughter. “And if you open your mouth it's time out for you.”  
  
She started to glare back then shrugged and nodded. Grabbing her brother's arm, she dragged him off to the living room. Ianto finished the lasagna, popped it in the oven, and then set about making a green salad and setting the table. He hadn't planned on inviting his old team to dinner, but Tosh had looked so exhausted towards the end of the meeting that the words had left his mouth before he had a chance to censor them. Tosh had a habit of skipping meals in order to get sleep, and it played havoc with her sensitive metabolism.   
  
Resolutely ignoring the little voice that suggested that his real reason was spending more time with Jack, he had rushed home and changed into jeans and an old University of Cardiff sweatshirt. It had been, the annoying little voice whispered, Jack's favorite look on him: young, carefree, and most of all, willing. Now, he looked down at his bare toes and sighed, wondering what the hell he was doing.  
  
He was getting the coffee machine set up for after-dinner brandy and dessert when the doorbell rang. A mad rush of little feet answered it.  
  
“Dai! Anwen!” He called out as he went, “what have I told you about opening the door?”  
  
“But Taaad...” Anwen wilted under her father's steady look. “We're supposed to wait for an adult.”  
  
“Good girl.”  
  
He opened the door to find three mountains of beautifully wrapped boxes with legs – well, two pairs of legs and one set of truefeet. Rolling his eyes, he stood aside. As his former teammates swept in, he glanced at his children. Both of the seemed paralyzed by the sight. Even the voluble Anwen was stunned into silence. Ianto removed a few boxes from Toshiko's pile and pointed her towards the Christmas tree near the window.  
  
“Over there.”  
  
Presents were piled up under and around the tree until it looked as if the poor thing had been buried in an avalanche of red and green paper. Ianto recognized it as the signature wrap of the most expensive children's store in Cardiff. He turned his most severe look on his friends.  
  
“Consider it five year's worth of birthdays and Christmases,” Jack said, smiling at the twins. “Besides, isn't it the uncles' and aunties' priviledge to spoil the kids?”  
  
Before Ianto could say anything, Anwen threw herself at Jack, who caught her in midair and settled her on his hip. She ran her little hands over his face and hair.  
  
“Pretty.”  
  
“Why, thank you, darling.” Jack repeated her gesture. “So are you. Very pretty.” He extended a hand to the quiet boy standing next to his father. “And you must be Dai.”  
  
Dai nodded and took the offered hand. Jack maneuvered them to the couch and sat down. Soon they were deep in conversation. Ianto stared at them, desperately trying to keep the sudden surge of emotion under control.   
  
“Is there anything that needs doing in the kitchen?” Toshiko threaded her arm through his. “I haven't had a chance to cook in months.”  
  
“All done, but you can help me pour the wine.” He steered her towards the kitchen. “Owen?”  
  
“No, no. I think I'll join the Captain, get to know the kids.”   
  
Ianto heard him mutter something under his breath that sounded like _ammunition_. Ianto decided that, as usual with Owen, discretion was the better part of valour. He really didn't want to know what the t'Li was planning. He made a few final checks on the meal and put together a tray of appetizers while Toshiko dealt with the wine.   
  
“You are happy.” Toshiko said. “Or you were, until we came.”  
  
“I am happy. My job is fulfilling, my children are a joy. It's just that... seeing them with Jack. It still hurts.”  
  
“He always thinks of you. When Lisa died, he pulled every string at his disposal to get me here in time for the funeral. He said that no matter how good your new life was, you would need someone who knew you well enough to understand the pain.” She smiled sadly. “He hurts too, Ianto.”  
  
“I know. He's punishing himself for Gray's death. But dammit, Tosh, this could have been his family!”   
  
“He doesn’t think he deserves one. Gray’s death…”  
  
“Was an accident. Jack was twelve years old, for God’s sake, how was he supposed to protect his brother?”  
  
“We know that. But Jack’s mother reaction to Gray’s death made a deep impression in an already traumatized boy.”  
  
Ianto sighed. “Rehashing it won’t do us any good. Come on, let’s take these out.” He pointed to a tray of appetizers. “We can munch and talk while the lasagna finishes cooking.”  
  
They took the food and wine out to the living room. Tosh and Ianto sat on the floor and passed around goodies. Soon Dai was on Tosh's lap and Jack had talked Ianto into letting the kids open one present each. The beautifully set table was forgotten as the lasagna and salad were placed on the coffee table and everyone helped themselves. Ianto watched his kids bloom under the attention of adults that treated their questions as serious inquiries. He knew that many people, even his sister, found the twins' precociousness startling and even uncomfortable, and, bright as they were, the children couldn't help but pick up the signals. Surrounded by people who saw nothing odd about five year olds asking about the feeding patterns of Centauri Prime pseudo-butterflies, they were happier than Ianto had ever seen them.   
  
They were slurping down Owen's favorite mango ice cream when Jack tapped the implant behind his ear.  
  
“Harkness. Gwen?... All right. Good.” He set down his spoon with a sigh of regret. “Sorry, kids. Work calls. Gwen and Andy have found the ambassador's hidey-hole. Ianto, we'll need you tomorrow morning again in the holo room...”  
  
“Why don't I stay with the kids and Ianto go with you instead?” Tosh asked. “I don't know much about _eeulinaali_ culture. I can set up here and do whatever research is needed.” She pointed at each kid in turn. “Is that all right with you two?”   
  
Anwen gave her a speculative look. “Can you tell good bedtime stories?”  
  
“Your aunt Tosh's mom is an Onemi word-singer,” Owen said, in the tone of one conveying a great secret. “Tosh can tell the best stories ever.”  
  
Dai's eyes brightened. “The wind spirit stories?” At Tosh's amused nod, he turned to his father. “You can go, Tad.”  
  
“Thank you,” Ianto answered dryly. “Come on, Captain. Duty calls.”

  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**GWEN**  
  
The black aircar glided to a neat landing in one of the parking spaces in front of the dingy arcology on the Penarth Esplanade. Gwen wasn't surprised to see Professor Jones emerge from the front passenger seat. He had changed out of the suit and into jeans, a sweatshirt, and boat shoes. She allowed herself a little drooling before bringing her mind back to the matter at hand.  
  
“How did you find this place?” Jack asked, staring upwards. “And who thought this monstrosity was a good idea?”  
  
“Some idiots with more money than sense decided to create an all-inclusive resort for off-worlders, like Penarth was Costa Rica or something.” Andy explained. “Went broke before it could be finished and the thing has been sitting here ever since getting uglier and uglier. And we didn't find it, Rhys did.”  
  
“Rhys?”  
  
“My fiancé,” Gwen said. “He manages a transport company. Last night at dinner we were talking about the case, in general terms, mind you, and he pointed out that the easiest way to fall below the official radar is to find a place with automated delivery and pickup and order everything in. As long as you don't use the same shops too often you can disappear from sight. Who could point out Mr. Jones to the coppers if they never saw him?”  
  
“So Gwen and I went to work using a list of things the _eeulinaali_ had ordered at their hotels and in restaurants,” Andy continued. “Things they seemed to enjoy eating or using or whatever. And this was the only place who had things on the list delivered, and nothing else.”  
  
“Is it something in the water?” Jack asked Ianto. “Or is there a Welsh investigative gene?”  
  
“History,” Ianto riposted. “We Welsh survived for millennia by keeping an eye on our neighbours and figuring out what the hell they were up to.”  
  
“You know, that actually makes sense. All right. Let's go.”  
  
Metal gates fitted with palm print scanners blocked entry to the lobby. Gwen reached for her badge, but before she could move, Jack pointed something at them; the thing looked like one of the multipurpose tools Gwen's tad used in his woodworking. A soft whine, and the gates slid open.  
  
“What is that?” Andy asked.  
  
“Sonic screwdriver. Only two in existence.” Jack swept through to the elevators. “Keep up, children.”  
  
The lobby was five or six stories high. Gwen assumed that at some point there would have been restaurants and shops on the ground floor and, if she strained, she could see the empty fittings for giant chandeliers high overhead. A double colonnade on either side of the space extended backwards to a bank of glass elevators gleaming dully at the far end.  
  
“It's too easy,” Andy opined. “I would have left guards behind.”  
  
“He did,” Professor Jones said quietly. “Can you smell that?”  
  
Gwen sniffed. “Yeah. Smells like a roomful of pigs.”  
  
“We wish. You're smelling an _ielos_. Think of it as a cross between a bat and a one-man endoatmospheric fighter.” Jack pointed at the colonnades. “Gwen, Andy, you take the left-hand side. There will be booby traps. Just remember, _eeulinaali_ necks don't bend backwards enough to allow them to look directly upwards, so their surprises tend to be of the drop-from-above kind. Owen, you take the right. Once you get to the elevators, wait for us. Ianto and I will take care of the _ielos_.” He pointed at Gwen. “Don't try to help. It will cause more trouble than it's worth. On my signal.”  
  
She watched as professor Jones took something out of his pocket and strolled unconcernedly towards the elevators, whistling something that was not quite a melody. High above, she heard the flapping of wings and then the whistle of air as a massive body glided down at high speed.  
  
“Go!”  
  
Gwen took off, Andy right behind her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see professor Jones standing still in the middle of the room, holding up what looked like a Cadbury Dairy Milk bar. Hovering above him was something out of a sadist's worst fantasy. Gwen glimpsed huge leathery wings and sharp fangs protruding from a triangular head. Instinctively she tried to move towards the professor, only to find herself pulled back. As she slammed against the wall, something struck the ground next to her feet and burst into flame.  
  
“Heat seeker grenades,” Andy panted. “Keep close to the wall!”  
  
They ran at full speed down the colonnade, keeping one shoulder to the marble wall, dodging the explosions as best they could. A few bits of shrapnel reached Gwen's pants, and she blessed whichever Chief Constable it was who insisted that all officers, in or out of formal uniform, wear flame-retardant fabrics. The sounds the thing was making as it chased Professor Jones made her eardrums hurt, but she kept her eyes turned away – she didn't think she could stand to do nothing if she actually saw what was going on – and kept on running.  
  
By the time they got to the elevators the t'Li Owen was there. He looked a little the worse for wear himself, dusty and sooty, but there didn't seem to be any physical damage. He pointed towards the battle beyond. Gwen finally allowed herself to look. Captain Harkness was caught in the animal's beak, tossed about like a puppy's toy, while professor Jones had managed to straddle its neck. He held a long knife in one hand and Gwen watched as he shifted to a two-handed grip and brought it down into the crown of the thing's head. The _ielos_ squealed, arching its neck. Captain Harkness pushed himself out of its hold, and gripped professor Jones's outstretched hand, vaulting into place behind him. They rode the _ielos_ 's death throes to the ground, rolling away from the sickening thud and the spray of dust. They lay together for a moment, professor Jones on top of the Captain, and the look they exchanged was so intimate that Gwen looked away.  
  
When she looked back, the two men were moving towards them. Professor Jones's face was set in what she could only describe as incandescent rage.  
  
“They owe me. They owe my whole clan. They brought an immature _ielos_ to Earth,” the professor's tone did not invite disagreement. “We might have lost the genetic variety in that one, and we will not forgive that.”  
  
“I'll have someone out here to pick up enough to work from,” captain Harkness said soothingly.  
  
“Suzie,” Gwen blurted out and then blushed under professor Jones's scrutiny, and held out her personal phone card. “She started out to be a geneticist. She would know what to do.”  
  
He looked at her consideringly, then nodded. “Would you please call her? Give her an idea of what she'll face. She'll need at least ten sampling packs.” He handed over a credit card. “Have them charged to me. If there's a question, get my attention. I have to go help Jack with the elevators.”  
  
Gwen watched him go, frowning. Having served as disbursement officer for the department early in her career, she had some idea of how much forensic supplies cost. Then she looked at the card and nearly swallowed her tongue. She was holding what the ficvids liked to call a 'planetary card,' a line of credit backed by massive personal or corporate holdings. There were only a few thousand in existence throughout the Alliance. The name on it was Ianto Jones, but directly below it was a line of what seemed like pictographs, and another, directly below that one, that seemed to serve as translation of the second one: _ielosailai'eeali_.  
  
 _Ielosa_. _Ielos_. She didn't need to be a linguist to figure out why Professor Jones looked like he could tear off the heads of a whole squadron of _iil_ warriors without breaking a sweat.  
  
She called Suzie and explained what was needed. The technician put her on hold, called the supplier, and together they placed the order. Suzie was her usual professional self, but Gwen could hear the excitement underneath. Order approved, she gave Suzie directions and hung up.  
  
“Gwen!” Jack's call made her look up. “Come on!”


	6. Chapter 6

**JACK**  
  
The elevator door opened on an alien landscape. The interior, which had obviously meant to be a suite of rooms, had been gutted. Glass bricks had been stacked to resemble crumbling towers. Air vines and other genetically altered greenery had been artistically draped to increase the feeling of a ruin. The curving wall that had once provided panoramic views of the bay had been covered with tapestries showing a view of a high plateau whose ocher slopes ran down to a sparkling green river. Beyond the plateau loomed high, forbidding mountains that seemed to smoke as the wind blew the snow off the peaks.  
  
It took only a second for Jack to realize what he was looking at, but he was still a little slower than Owen. The t'Li wrapped his wings around Ianto, cocooning him and whistling what sounded even to human ears like a lullaby.  
  
“What's wrong?” Gwen whispered.  
  
“You two, come with me.” He stalked away to the other end of the room, where two large “ruined” walls blocked off a corner of the room. “This is a fairly accurate reproduction of a section of the ruins of the city of _ieienaal_. It belonged to a small clan collaterally related to the _ielosa_. About three hundred years ago, the city was overrun by troops not wearing a house sigil. The females past child bearing and all the males were slaughtered. The females in estrus were raped and impregnated. Traditionally that meant the clan and its holdings had become the property of the invaders, but the females refused to play by the rules. They tricked the men into leaving the city for one night, then, at sunrise the next morning, they blew up the city with themselves inside it. It was the first time in _eeulinaali_ history that females took a public stance on political matters.”  
  
“Political!” Gwen was about to explode. 'What is so damned political about gang rape?”  
  
Andy put a hand on her shoulder. “Gwen, think. When you can tilt the balance of power in a whole planet with a single act, every act is potentially political.” He looked at Jack. “Life among the _eeulinaali_ must be very nervous.”  
  
“Indeed. The important thing to remember is that what happened at _ieienaal_ had not happened for millennia. The Great Clan Accords kept the coup game within strict limits. The _ielosa_ still have a bounty on the guilty clan.”  
  
Gwen nodded towards Ianto, who was standing next to Owen, face pale and set. “There's more to it than that for him.”  
  
“When Ianto was ten,” Jack said, “he traveled with his parents to _ieienaal_ for his adoption ceremony. His mother was an archaeologist and she pointed out some things about the ruins that the _ielosa_ hadn't known. There had been an official investigation at the time of the city's destruction but it hadn't identified any perpetrators. They were curious to see how much she could find out, so they hired her to excavate. She stayed behind with a bodyguard and Ianto and his father went back to the capital. Three days later the camp was attacked. Ianto's mother was killed and her body placed in a ceremonial nest of defilement, which is exactly what it sounds like. That's the kind of insult that will never be forgotten or forgiven.”  
  
Andy gave a low whistle. “All right, then. We need evidence, the sort that'll stand up in court.” Jack watched as he meandered away, stopping here and there to peer at something and take notes. He needed someone like that. In fact, Torchwood needed both these Welsh cops.  
  
“Do you think that the _iil_ murdered professor Jones's mother?” Gwen asked quietly.  
  
Jack pointed to the tapestries. “That plateau is the winter home of the _ielosa_. The name, by the way, means High Places Flyer. Those mountains are their true home. Anyone trying to take the plateau would spend every minute trying to look upwards. Even so, many have tried. It's one of the two most fertile places in the planet and harvests are excellent, year in and year out. The _ielosa_ are not a large clan, but they are wealthy and powerful, and the basis for their wealth and power is that plateau. The _iil_ , on the other hand, are also powerful and wealthy but they are land poor. All their wealth comes from making war on the other clans, and they have a history of finding quasi-legal ways of breaking treaties and taking what they want. Interestingly enough, it’s the _ielosa_ who are more willing to adapt to the larger Universe. The _iil_ want to return their culture to what they see as a perfect past.”  
  
“Sounds like the earthfirsters,” Gwen muttered.  
  
Jack laughed. “Exactly. Now, I need your eyes and your mind. Tell me what you see.”  
  
“I don’t know much about the _eeulinaali_ as a Culture. I could be way off.”  
  
“So you could. Go ahead anyway.”  
  
He watched as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. “It’s more than a hiding place. It’s where he can play out a fantasy. He wants to think of himself as a great warrior, swooping down on his inferiors and taking what he thinks is his by right of force. He might even have role-played here. See the scorch marks on those bricks over there? Those are new.” She bent over and touched her fingertips to a irregular splotch on the floor, sniffed them, then held them out to Jack. “Blood?”  
  
He took a good whiff. “Yes.”  
  
“So he has a partner or partners who play the game. But why? Humans play for so many reasons. Relaxation, companionship, obsession… and we usually put limits on the amount of physical danger we’re exposed to, well, except for those idiots who love climbing the Brecons in winter and such…” she turned to find the professor watching her, a slight smile on his lips. She blushed. “And you could probably do this much better than I could.”  
  
“You’re doing fine,” he said. “ _eeulinaali_ play is actually very similar, both in kind and motivation, to human. Ambassador _iilaaila'inali_ was well known for his interest in historical reenactment, although he was more likely to finance them than to participate.” He took out his phone and pressed one number. “Tosh? Can you get some work done or did my demons get you?... Angels? Please don’t lie to a father… Could you find out what the Ambassador was up to in the last three or four years? I’m especially interested in historical reenactments and female companions… yes, thanks.”  
  
“So what is this all about, then?” Gwen asked him.   
  
“You forgot one of the great motivators. Sex.”  
  
Jack valiantly refrained from laughing at Gwen’s look. He kept out of Ianto’s way; the man was a born teacher.  
  
“You mean this,” Gwen swept her arm in a wide circle, taking in the whole room, “is all so he could impress some female?”  
  
“For millennia, the only certain way for a eeulinaal to get a mate was to win her in battle. What do you think?”  
  
“But from what Jack said, this place was conquered and the females…” Her huge eyes grew even bigger. ‘Rape fantasy?”  
  
He shrugged. “Why not? It’s a human kink too.”  
  
“Ugh.” She looked around again, clearly trying to get herself under control. “So, he’s doing this to impress a female that wants to live out a rape fantasy? Or is it his fantasy and the female unwilling? Is it consensual or not?”  
  
A low cough interrupted her. Everyone turned to look at Andy, who was leaning against one of the ruined walls. He looked, Jack thought, slightly green around the gills.  
  
“Sirs? I have a question.”  
  
“Brace yourselves,” Gwen said. “Andy’s questions tend to rattle the windows.”  
  
“Go ahead, Andy,” Jack said.  
  
“I understand how coloration works among the t’Li,” he nodded towards Own shyly. “But how does it work with the _eeulinaali_? Do all members of a clan share the same feather colors?”  
  
“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” the professor said. “Families within clans share coloration, but a clan can have a large variety of colors within certain environmental limits. For example, the _ielosa_ have a tendency to very pale hues across the color spectrum…” He stopped, looking at Andy.  
  
“Better camouflage in the mountain snows?” the policeman asked.  
  
“Very good. The iil tend to deep browns and reds…”  
  
Andy held up a hand. “That’s what I thought. And if I were to see, say, a handful of deep brown-and-gold feathers with a pattern like veins?”  
  
“You could confidently say that a member of the _aaila_ family of the _iil_ clan has been around.” His phone rang and he held up a hand, “Yes, Tosh?” As he listened his face shifted into what Jack had long ago christened the _Ianto is going to happen to someone and not in a good way_ look. "Thanks, Tosh. That needs to be included in the file. Yes.” He smiled at Jack, a humourless smile filled with teeth. “The Ambassador has been traveling with his father’s widow, who is nominally chaperoning the Ambassador’s two nieces. If we can find any…”  
  
“Sir,” Andy interrupted. “I don’t think you understand yet.”  
  
He held out his right hand. Lying on the palm were three brown and gold feathers. “Maybe the t’Li Owen can tell us if they are those of an adult, but I don’t think so. Too… soft, feathery, if that makes any sense.”  
  
Owen took a scanner out of his thorax-pouch and ran it over Andy’s hand. “Immature. No older than fifteen or sixteen _eeulinaali_ years.” He stepped back, his wings folding tightly against his thorax in disgust. “Ianto…”  
  
“Where did you find those, Andy?” Jack asked, even though he had a sick premonition that he already knew.  
  
“In that little room behind the wall. It’s a… nest, I guess.” The Welshman suddenly looked like an avenging angel. “No wonder someone wanted to kill the bastard.”


	7. Chapter 7

**GWEN** **  
  
** The shuttle jerked slightly as it decoupled from the launching tower. Gwen grabbed at the safety webbing that held her against the seat and watched as the Earth dropped away. She was glad the shuttle's temperature had been set to t'Li standards; the cold kept her from sweating into her dress uniform.  
  
They had spent three days helping Toshiko nail the evidence to an unshakeable timeline. Gwen had always thought of Andy as detail-minded, but she was awed by Toshiko's ability to chase down even the smallest contradiction and beat it into submission. They had located and taken statements from every Person who had even the smallest contact with the Ambassador or his retinue. They had tracked down every piece of paper, no matter how irrelevant. Andy had prepared supporting documentation until he was ready to scream.   
  
Meanwhile, the t'Li Owen and Suzie were closeted in the lab working on forensic evidence. Reams of data would emerge at random intervals and be integrated into the timeline. Meals were casual affairs, usually brought in by Rhys, who had taken over the job of, as he put it, making sure they didn't just collapse from low blood sugar. They napped on the couches in the staff lounge and woke up to protein drinks and more paperwork. At some point, Gwen realized that she hadn't seen the Captain or professor Jones for more than a few minutes at the time. She had asked the t'Li, and had gotten the t'Li equivalent of a snort and a phrase the translation box rendered as _ excavating bovine feces _ .   
  
After it was all over Gwen was more than ready to grab the day off with pay her boss had offered. She had dragged Rhys off to their favorite b&b at St. David's, where they had spent their time walking along the cliffs and making love. Like every other person on Earth, she was intensely aware of the approaching deadline, but she was sure her direct role in the crisis was over, and, if she were to be honest, she felt nothing but relief at leaving it in Torchwood's hands. The feeling lasted until her phone had rung in the late afternoon and the Captain had instructed her to present herself at the spaceport the following morning.   
  
And now here she was, seated between Andy and Suzie, watching the Alliance freighter get bigger and bigger, until it filled the ports. Next to her, Andy swore quietly.  
  
“How big is that thing?”  
  
“Actually,” the t'Li Owen answered from his perch, “that's a mid-sized freighter. Permanent crew is about fifty-one hundred, mostly Kanagh and t'Li.”  
  
Gwen swallowed down her panic. Kanagh gave humans the creeps. They looked human – two arms, two legs, one head on top of a torso – but instead of human-like features they had two rows of sensors on either side of a sharp ridge that ran down the center of the head from the back of the neck to where the human chin would be; when open, the sensors resembled almond-shaped eyes that glowed a phosphorescent green. Their skin was covered in scales, and their arms ended on multiple tentacles instead of hands. It was like looking at a horror ficvid version of humanity.  
  
“This is another test, isn't it?” she asked the t'Li Owen.  
  
The harp glissando laughter filled the small space. “Everything in life is a test, child, as Jack says when he's at his most annoyingly philosophical.”  
  
Another slight jerk signalled he shuttle's docking. A few more thunks and the airlock slid aside. The t'Li Owen led the way out. Gwen found herself in a cavernous hangar lined with shuttle bays. Captain Harkness was waiting for them; next to him was a Kanagh in Alliance uniform. It – Gwen remembered the Kanagh were always referred to as It – had its upper four sensors uncoverered, giving It the unsettling, to a human, look of having four large green eyes.   
  
“Gwen, Andy, Suzie, welcome to the Alliance ship Xijxe.” Jack gestured towards the Kanagh. “This is Captain...” he rattled off a word that seemed mostly composed of _mms_ and _sss_.  
  
The Kanagh offered Gwen a tentacle. “Call me Mssmo.”   
  
Its voice was a deep baritone that reminded Gwen of some of the singers in Rhys's church choir. She concentrated on the sound as she grasped the appendage. It was warm and dry, and she could feel a gentle pulse beat under the unexpectedly delicate surface. “I'm Gwen.”  
  
“Welcome to the Enterprise, Gwen.” It chuckled at their surprise. “Yes. It seems the Person who got to name her,” one of the tentacles pointed at Jack in a parody of subtlety, “is a fan of classic Terran ficvid. But it is also suitable as an Inabraxan name, so it was allowed to stand.”  
  
It shook Andy and Suzie's hands, then offered Gwen its arm. She took it. They led the group out of the hangar and down a wide corridor lined with doors.  
  
“These are the living quarters for VIPs,” the Kanagh rumbled in her ear. “The whole place has been buzzing like one of your beehives since the delegations started arriving yesterday.”  
  
“Delegations?”  
  
“Didn't Jack tell you? Torchwood has requested, and got, mind you, a full Council meeting.” Gwen stumbled and found herself being held up by a discreet tentacle pressing against her back. “It's a very unusual move, but Jack is known for his, shall we say, oblique approach. And his successes, of course.”  
  
Gwen shivered. “Does that mean that the decision has been made?”  
  
“I would say some sort of decision has been made,” Captain Mmso said. “But there's no need to panic yet, dear Gwen. If I were a betting Person I would place all my retirement credit on Jack.” There was a low rumble exactly like human laughter. “I actually did that once. And doubled my little nest egg.”  
  
She looked up at the phosphorescent green “eyes” and suddenly saw past Its ugliness to Its kindness. She felt a little ashamed of her provincialism. “Thank you.”  
  
“You are quite welcome.” It stopped in front of a door guarded by four Alliance soldiers. “Here we are.”  
  
The door opened and they stepped into a large oblong chamber. Twelve large stools were placed in a semicircle at the far end. She recognized the occupants as the current ministers plenipotentiary to Earth from the other Cultures. The  _ eeulinaali _ chair was empty, as was the one that would usually be occupied by a Terran minister in another planet.   
  
Three circles were etched on the deck plates in front of the chairs. Two faced each other from either side of the chairs; the third was set at a distance, directly in front of the chairs. The  _ eeulinaali _ delegation occupied one of the two circles closest to the chairs. Captain Mmso led Gwen to the other one. She looked at It in surprise.  
  
“It is not necessary for a Culture's representatives to be government officials and suchlike. The murder happened in Cardiff, and you, as citizens of Cardiff, are deemed to be the ones most closely affected.”   
  
It waved her into the circle and repeated the gesture with Andy and Suzie. Gwen watched as the Torchwood team entered the circle that faced all the others. Captain Mmso returned to the door. Locking it, It stood with Its back pressed against it.   
  
“The Alliance Council is in session,” It announced. “The matter of the death of Ambassador  _ iilaaila'inali _ is under consideration.”  
  
“Captain Harkness,” the Inabraxan minister's hood flared above her triangular head. “have you come to a determination on the matter?”  
  
“Yes, Madame.” Jack answered. “We find that the Ambassador's death was an internal clan matter. We further find that the _ iil _ acted precipitately in claiming blood price from Earth.”  
  
“That is not acceptable!” A tall, queenly  _ eeulinaa _ with brown, gold, and green feathering challenged him. “Captain Harkness is obviously influenced by his genetic ancestry and his relationship with the Human Jones.”  
  
Jack stared directly a her, something Gwen knew was absolutely taboo behavior towards an  _ eeulinaali _ female. “Madame, currently the investigation files are under seal. I can unseal them if you wish.”  
  
She seemed as taken aback by the offer as she was by his contempt. The impasse was broken by a young  _ eulinaa _ who pushed her way to the front of the group. She wore a delicate cloak and face veil and kept her eyes downcast.   
  
“There is no need, Captain Harkness. I freely confess to the killing of my uncle, the Ambassador _ iilaaila'inali _ .”  
  
Gwen's heart stuttered with relief. She grasped Andy's hand and squeezed hard. They had known that even with the documents they had gathered there was a good chance that the  _ iil _ could get away with it. A confession made everything else moot. Earth was safe.  
  
She looked at the ministers. Most of them seemed to have relaxed; the Onemi minister was openly smiling. The Inabraxan minister spoke again.  
  
“Child, the files are under seal. That includes the details of the matter. You might avail yourself of the protection afforded by the determination, if you wish.”  
  
She shook her head. “I do not want doubt cast on the decision, Your Excellency. When I was asked by my uncle to travel with him, I was overjoyed. There are few opportunities for ones such as I to see the galaxy, and I had always yearned to do so. It was not for some time that I noticed that my uncle's behavior was... odd. He flew into ungovernable rages with his body servants. He seemed obsessed with certain events in our history, and forced those around them to act them out. But there would be long periods of clarity and then he was the uncle I remembered from my childhood. When we got to Earth he took time to escort me to see the sights.” A sound much like a human sob emerged from behind the veil. “Then two nights before... before that night... he invited me to go with him to visit a very special place. That's what he called it, a very special place. When we got there and I saw what it was... I tried to run. I tried to fight, but he was very strong and I...” They could all see the agitated beating of her wings under the cloak. “Then, after the concert, he said we would go back that night. I couldn't, I... I had a hat pin he had bought me as a souvenir. When he stumbled walking across the Plas, I saw my chance and I took it. I couldn't let him... do it again.”  
  
The Inabraxan looked at the other Councillors; some sort of communication seemed to pass between them. The Onami nodded firmly. The Inabraxan turned back to the waiting groups. “Very well. Judgment is that the killing was self-defense under the accepted meaning of the word in Alliance jurisprudence. As to the matter of the claim against Earth, we judge that the Humans have a retaliatory claim.” Her coils rustled as she rose to approach Gwen's group. “All we ask is that you consider the circumstances.”  
  
She swept towards the door, followed by the other councillors. Captain Mmso bowed as It opened it, waiting for them all to be safely out of sight before turning to the Persons remaining in the room.  
  
“The Council meeting is ended.” Gwen thought she could detect amusement in Its voice. “From now on, all procedures are considered confidential and no records will be kept. I will be outside...”  
  
Impulsively, Gwen spoke up. “No, wait. Is it acceptable for us to ask for a witness?”  
  
“It is.”  
  
“Then please stay. It is my understanding Kanagh have eidetic memories. If something goes wrong in the future, it would be useful to both sides to have someone who can recite the encounter word for word.”  
  
It inclined his head and resumed Its previous position. Gwen looked at Jack and found him smiling widely at her. His obvious approval steadied her nerves.  
  
“What is a retaliatory claim?”  
  
One of the cloaked  _ eeulinaali _ stepped forward. “It means that, since our claim against Earth has been considered precipitate instead of simply mistaken, Earth's representatives have the right to impose the penalty.” The cloak’s hood fell back and Professor Jones smiled at her. “The Council did ask that you take mitigating circumstances into consideration.”  
  
The older female screeched and lunged for him. She was held back by several of the younger males. The young female grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her.  
  
“Stop  _ liilia _ . Stop! He protected our secret. Would you rather those files were unsealed and the whole Galaxy knew that the _ iil _ had been so desperate to save itself as to attempt incest?” She turned back to professor Jones. “What is our penalty?”  
  
He shook his head. “It's not as easy as that. I am not here as a Human but as an  _ eeulinaali _ .” He gestured towards Gwen, Andy, and Suzie. “It's up to them.”  
  
The three looked at each other.  
  
“You do it, Gwen.” Andy whispered. “You understand people much better than I do.”   
  
Suzie nodded in agreement. Gwen looked at Jack, who nodded slightly. Taking a deep breath, she approached the young  _ eeulinaa _ . “Why did you need to resort to something that would bring disgrace to your clan?”  
  
“Three  _ aalli _ ago,” the girl stopped and seemed to be thinking, “forty of your years, I think, my grandfather and several other senior members of the family realized that our clan's fertility was running skewed towards females. They were afraid we would not birth enough warriors to protect the clan. It took all of our reserves, but they contracted with an Anachron geneticist to find a solution. He did.” She made a sound that even to Gwen's inexpert ear had a bitter ring. “A cocktail of drugs was added to the females' food. It worked. Two years later, more than half the children born were males. Unfortunately, they were born sterile. Ever since then, no matter what we have tried, the _ iil _ males are born sterile. As the males born before the drugs die, the clan is dying with them.”  
  
Gwen studied the young Person standing meekly before her. “Take off your hood.”  
  
The girl's head snapped back. “Why?”  
  
“Because I think we'll find that your feathers do not match the ones we found in the nest of defilement. I think your uncle and your grandmother conspired to impregnate a very young girl. Perhaps in first estrus? Your younger sister? And when you found out about it, you appointed yourself executioner, not just for your uncle, but for your whole clan.”  
  
Suddenly the meekness was all gone. “She is fourteen! Fourteen! But her estrus came on early, as it sometimes it happens in our family. And that bastard raped her, hoping to get himself a son and reinforce his position as Heir. Don't expect me to be sorry I did it.” She tore off the cloak and veil, displaying gorgeous brown and silver plumage. “So tell me, human. What is my penalty?”  
  
Gwen turned to professor Jones. “May I speak to your brother?”  
  
A tall Person with palest green and brown streaks through his wings stepped forward and bowed. “I am  _ ielosailai'eiilai _ , at your service Madame.”  
  
“Can you speak for your people?”  
  
“I can.”  
  
Gwen closed her eyes and prayed she was doing the right thing. “Are there single males among your clan that would go without mates?”  
  
His eyes widened in shock, then his beak clicked softly. “There are.”  
  
Gwen looked at the young  _ eulinaa _ . “This is your penalty. You and your sister will chose mates from the _ ielosa _ clan and live as  _ ielosa _ for the rest of your lives.” She turned to the older female. “And this is the penalty for the  _ iil _ . If the  _ ielosa _ chooses to accept, you will adopt young males from their clan to be mates to your young females. The  _ iil _ name and genes will be carried into the future, as it would not do to lose them, but it will be as part of a new genetic line.”  
  
The older female shrieked, her wings fanning out and knocking some of her retainers to the ground. “We will not accept!”  
  
“Then we request that the Captain unseal and release the files. Your clan name will be a hissing and a byword for all Persons and Cultures. Is that what you want?”  
  
The  _ eeulinaa _ suddenly deflated. An elderly male bowed to Gwen. “Now that my cousin is dead, I am Heir to the War Leader of my clan. We accept.”  
  
“As do we,” the Professor Jones's brother said.  
  
Gwen was suddenly shaking, partly in elation and partly in terror. “Captain Mmso...”  
  
“I do witness and offer my name-seal as a guarantee,” the Kanagh said. “If there are no more objections or proposals, this meeting is adjourned.”  
  
The room was suddenly so silent Gwen could hear people's breaths. She smiled at Captain Mmso, then turned once again to Jack. His grin had reached incandescent levels, and she could see the pride in his eyes. She tried to move and found that she couldn't. She felt light-headed with relief. She heard Professor Jones's concerned  _ Gwen? _ as if coming from miles away. She reached for his outstretched arms as she collapsed in a dead faint.


	8. Chapter 8

**IANTO**  
  
“Tad?” Anwen whispered. “Have I been a bad girl?”  
  
Ianto knelt at his daughter's bedside. "Now what brought that on, cariad?”  
  
“I asked Santa for something very, very special, Tad.”  
  
“And you're afraid you won't get it?” At her nod, he touched her cheek gently. “It wasn't a toy, was it?” She shook her head. “Sweetie, Santa brings presents to good boys and girls. He can't make things happen just because you want them to.”  
  
“Not even if it's really, really important?”  
  
“I'm sorry, cariad. Can you tell me what you asked for?” She shook her head. “All right. Sleep well, sweetheart.”  
  
He waited until her breath had deepened and her long lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she dropped into sleep. He wondered if she had been thinking about Lisa. He knew the twins remembered their mother, and he had made an effort to keep her memory a part of their lives. He turned off the light; the small seashell nightlight Tosh had given both the children as a birth-welcome glowed gently amber in the darkness. Neither Anwen nor Dai could be persuaded to sleep without them.   
  
Leaving the door slightly open, he crossed the landing to check on Dai. He found his son sprawled across his mattress, as exuberant in sleep as he was reserved when awake. A book lay open on his chest and another on the floor beside the bed. He removed them, placing them on top of the pile on the bedside table. When he turned back to the bed, he found Dai awake and looking up at him.  
  
“Hey,” he said, yawning, “I was reading.”  
  
“You were sleeping. Did you brush your teeth already?”  
  
“Yeah.” The drawled syllables, composed equally of assurance and dismissal, made Ianto think of Jack at his mischievous worst.  
  
“All right, then, under the duvet.”  
  
Dai scrambled into place, then propped himself up on his elbows. “Papa, can I ask a question?”  
  
Ianto sat down at the edge of the bed. Dai only called him Papa when he was serious about something. “Sure.”  
  
“Can you love more than one person?”  
  
“Of course you can. You love me, and your sister, and Aunt Rhi…”  
  
The small head shook. “No, I mean…. I loved Mama. I loved her a lot.”  
  
“I know, bachgen.”  
  
Dai looked away. ”But is it all right to love someone else like that too? I wouldn’t forget mama,” he hastened to reassure his father. “It’s just that…”  
  
The voice trailed away. Ianto took his son’s hand. “I understand, Dai. And no, of course it’s all right. Love doesn’t diminish. You don’t stop loving one person because you love another.”  
  
“That’s what Aunt Tosh said.” Dai flopped back onto his pillow and rolled to his side. “Thanks, Tad. Night!”  
  
Ianto kissed the boy’s forehead lightly, “Night, kiddo.”  
  
He located Dai’s nightlight under a pile of dirty clothes – his son was a slob, Ianto acknowledged ruefully – and made sure it sat on the study table, where Dai would see it the moment he opened his eyes, then went downstairs. As he wandered around picking up toys and books, he thought about the conversations he had just had. It was obvious the twins had bonded with the members of his former team in ways they hadn’t with their own family. In the days following the adjudication of the _eeulinaali_ claim, while the team waited for new orders, they had spent almost every waking moment at Ianto’s house. Dai had developed a quietly romantic crush on Toshiko, and had spent hours with her, learning Onemi-Ia and Japanese. Anwen had divided her time between Owen and Jack, but mostly because the t’Li had seduced her away from her idol by teaching her to make crystal thread nests. Now that they were gone, the twins’ anxieties about their place in their new friends’ lives were surfacing.  
  
Ianto sighed. He had returned to Earth because he had thought of it as the safest place to raise a family, but the danger had followed. On top of that, his children were as fascinated with the wider Universe as he had been at their age. Neither Dai nor Anwen were going to be stay-at-home types. If he faced truth squarely, neither was he. Maybe it was time to reconsider.  
  
He looked at the few dishes in the sink and shrugged. They could wait. Pouring himself a glass of wine, he decided to spend a few hours reading over some of his students’ papers. This year he had a good crop of prospects; the First Contact office was already scouting some of them. He needed to make sure his recommendations were sound.  
  
He started to go back upstairs, but the soft knock on the door made him turn back. He wondered who would be calling so late at night. Rhi and her family were on vacation in Greece, and he wasn’t one of those professors who brought their students into their personal lives. He hesitated a moment, then set down his wine and picked up Dai’s cricket bat.  
  
“Who is it?”  
  
“Jack.”  
  
Shocked to the core, Ianto unlocked the door. Before he had a chance of opening it, it had been wrenched from his grasp as Jack pushed in, sailing past Ianto into the living room. Calmly, Ianto closed and locked it again, then turned back to face the other man, waiting silently for an explanation.  
  
“Happy Christmas, Ianto.”  
  
“Nadolig llawen, Jack. Did you forget something?”  
  
Jack flushed. “I will always feel a little guilty for Gray’s death, and I will probably not make the best father in the world. Hell, not even in Cardiff. But I’m willing to try, if you will let me.”  
  
Ianto tamped down the sudden wild hope. “What about Torchwood?”  
  
“We have been permanently assigned to Earth for five years. In fact, all the teams have been assigned to permanent status on specific planets. I’ve offered jobs to Gwen, Andy and Suzie, so the team will be at full strength.” He took a deep breath and launched again. “It doesn’t mean we won’t be asked to take on missions to other places or that circumstances won’t change. And it does mean that there’s a good chance that at the end of the five years we will be asked to go somewhere else. Are you willing to take the chance?”  
  
“I don’t know.” He put the bat down and moved to stand much closer to Jack. “If I understand you correctly, you want me only for my children. What’s in it for me?”  
  
He found himself being yanked into an embrace that bordered on the painful. He wrapped his arms around Jack and pulled him even closer. Their mouths met. Jack’s hands stroked upwards to wrap around Ianto’s neck, holding him in place as he was devoured. He indulged the power play for a few minutes, then he seized the initiative, pushing Jack against the wall. Jack’s lascivious grin and grinding hips told him how much he enjoyed Ianto’s move. Ianto kissed his way from Jack’s jaw to his temple.   
  
“What’s in it for me, Jack?” he whispered. “What are you offering?”  
  
“My life, my name, and my substance, in good times and in bad, forsaking all others, for as long as you will have me.”  
  
The words of the Boeshane binding ritual made Ianto’s heart soar. “I accept you, Jack Harkness, and I offer you my life, my name and my substance, in good times and in bad, forsaking all others, for as long as you will have me.”  
  
This time the kiss was gentle, a sign and a promise. When they resurfaced for air, Ianto grinned cheekily at his forever love. “How did you manage it? And don’t try the innocent look on me, Jack Harkness.”  
  
Jack shrugged. “We have been talking about it for a while. Living on the Game Station feels transient and unsettled. It’s always been the largest reason for resignations among experienced agents like you, not to mention at least two suicides. Finally, the Team Leaders decided to take their concerns to the Council, and they agreed that it was time for a change.”  
  
“And when was this?”  
  
“A few months ago. I didn’t ask for a specific assignment then.” Jack looked into Ianto’s eyes, willing him to understand. “I thought there was no way to get back what I had lost, but being here, meeting the kids, falling in love with them, wanting them to be mine as much as I wanted their father, I knew I had to take the chance. I spoke to Owen and Tosh and they were more than willing to go along, so as soon as we got back to the Xijxe, I made the request.” He chuckled. “It turned out Earth was going to be our assignment anyway.”  
  
Ianto released Jack and stood back, holding out one hand. “Come upstairs with me.”  
  
They climbed the stairs, hands clasped, neither wanting to let go. When they entered the master bedroom, Jack looked around curiously.   
  
“It’s very much you,” he said.  
  
“It’s all new,” Ianto answered the unspoken question. “Last summer, I was finally ready to let go. Rhi helped me choose furniture and linens.” He brought Jack’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the palm. “I loved Lisa. It was different, but not less real or important. But I never forgot you and I never stopped loving you.”  
  
Jack returned the gesture, “If I’d come to Earth and found you married, I would have respected it. I am sorry the children lost their mother, and I don’t want ever you or them to forget her or minimize her place in your lives. But I am glad we’re free to choose each other again.”  
  
Ianto helped Jack out of his coat and tossed it on the reading chair positioned a comfortable arms’ reach distance from the bookcases. They undressed each other and tumbled into bed as if coming home. They spent time rediscovering their bodies, reacquainting themselves with once-familiar territory, driving each other into a quiet frenzy. It was deeper and richer, Ianto thought, because they had come so near to losing it forever. He wrapped his legs around Jack’s waist, holding his lover tightly, arching under his thrusts as they reached for climax together. Afterwards there was talking and planning and finally sleep, settling into their old comfortable position, Jack on his back and Ianto draped over him with his head on Jack’s shoulder.  
  
It was the slight yelp that brought Ianto awake.   
  
“Santa did it!”  
  
“It can’t have been Santa,” he heard his son say, “Christmas is not until next week.”  
  
“I wished it and he’s here,” his daughter answered firmly. “Now we get to keep him.”  
  
The slight shaking of the shoulder beneath his cheek told Ianto that Jack had heard the exchange.   
  
“No wonder you made me put the sweat pants on, “ Jack whispered.  
  
Ianto rolled away and sat up, looking sternly at his children. “What have I said about coming into the bedroom?”  
  
“That we should knock first,” Dai answered promptly. “I’m sorry, Tad, but we…”  
  
“We couldn’t sleep,” Anwen interrupted him. “We were sad and we wanted to cuddle a little. But we’ll go to bed now.”  
  
“Hold on,” Jack said, pushing himself up on one elbow. “Why were you sad?”  
  
“Because we had asked Santa for you as a Dad, and Tad said that Santa didn’t make things happen but he did because you’re here and now we’re not sad anymore.”  
  
Ianto stared at his children, utterly dumbfounded. Two sets of identical blue eyes stared back unwaveringly. Jack chuckled.  
  
“I’m glad you want me to be your Dad, because I love you both very much,” he told them. “And I think cuddling is in order. Come here.”  
  
The twins climbed onto the bed. After much giggling and maneuvering, they managed to get themselves comfortable, Anwen next to Jack and Dai with his back pressed to Ianto’s chest. Jack reached over them to take Ianto’s hand. As their fingers entwined, Ianto could have sworn he heard all the parts of his life falling into place at last.

 


End file.
